


Truth or Dare

by machtaholic (cinderella81)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Haircuts, Mysticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 10:50:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7888387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderella81/pseuds/machtaholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison and Lydia are spending Friday night together, playing what seems to be an innocent game of Truth or Dare, until Lydia gives her the ultimate Dare - to become a true resident of Beacon Hills.</p><p>This is totally from left field, and I'm not even sure if it'll make sense to anyone other than me, but ... I kinda love it.  So here it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth or Dare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrettyInSoulPunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyInSoulPunk/gifts).



“Truth or dare?” Lydia asked, sipping her fourth, no fifth, glass of wine.

Allison giggled and sipped her own wine as she lounged on Lydia’s bed. They were having a ‘we’re almost seniors’ sleepover, which basically meant they were imbibing copious amounts of wine and trying on Lydia’s clothes - what they normally did on a Friday night when Beacon Hills wasn’t in mortal danger.

“How about dare,” Allison said. They’d been playing the game for a while (five glasses of wine ago) and while the truths had been brutal for both of them, the dares had been silly, harmless, and kind of fun.

“I dare you to go through the Initiation and finally become a real Beacon Hills resident,” Lydia said, downing her glass of wine and watching Allison carefully.

Allison nearly spat her wine out in shock. “What?”

“You heard me,” Lydia murmured. “Become a real Beacon Hills resident.”

Allison bit her lip nervously. A few months after she’d arrived in Beacon Hills, she’d found herself in the Beacon Hills Public Library, just perusing the books on a quiet Sunday morning. It had been something she always did in a new city, every library was set up different, had a different vibe about it. While she was looking at reference books, she’d stumbled upon something that had, at first, looked like a yearbook.

But as she’d thumbed through the pages she’d realized that it was so much more than that. Each page was filled with pictures of kids, all who looked about sixteen, with horribly embarrassing (and sometimes very juvenile) haircuts. She noticed that the pictures started in the sixties and went all the way to present day, with plenty of empty pages for … future pictures? She also gasped softly when she recognized Sheriff Stilinski, Mrs. McCall and Coach Finstock! Closer to the back of the book she’d seen who she assumed to be Laura Hale, Derek Hale, then Jackson, Scott, Stiles, even Lydia!

At first, no one answered her questions about the book. She’d finally cornered Lydia and made her spill. And oh, what a story it was!

“Lydia,” Allison whispered. “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly,” Lydia replied. “You asked for a dare, I gave you one.” 

“It’s almost midnight, there’s no way they’re open!” Allison protested.

“Vega’s is always open,” Lydia said, climbing off the bed and tossing Allison her sweatshirt.

Allison groaned and tugged her sweatshirt on, sliding off the bed and tugging her shoes on. She dutifully followed Lydia through the house and out to the car, buckling herself into the passenger seat and staring blankly as she rode through the silent streets of Beacon Hills.

“Can’t I go back and do Truth?” Allison asked when Lydia stopped the car. 

“No,” Lydia said, then leaned in, her lips almost pressed to Allison’s ear. “Besides, I want to be able to say that my girlfriend is a true Beacon Hills resident.”

Allison shivered at the feel of Lydia’s warm breath on her ear and sighed softly. “O-okay,” she finally said, climbing out of the car and shrugging out of her sweatshirt as she looked up at the sign that showed that yes, Vega’s Beauty Shop was indeed open. Her eyes were drawn the line beneath the name of the shop: “Free Haircut #9”.

“It’s not permanent,” Lydia said, nudging Allison forward. 

“I know,” Allison said, swallowing and approaching the door, her hand shaking just a bit as she turned the knob and stepped inside. The inside looked just like and old fashioned salon, complete with bullet hair dryers, and in the corner was a big red leather barber’s chair for the men’s cuts. It was supposed to appear comforting and welcoming, but to Allison it was terrifying.

“Ms. Argent, what a surprise!” 

Allison actually jumped when she heard the voice from the back of the salon and frowned when she heard Lydia chuckling next to her.

“Hello, Ms. -”

“Just call me Vega, dear,” Vega said, stepping over and taking one of Allison’s hand in hers and patting it gently. “What are you doing here? You’re past your time.”

“She wants to be a true Beacon Hills resident,” Lydia interjected. “She wants Haircut #9.”

“Do you?” Vega asked, looking at Allison intently.

Allison swallowed and nodded, giving Vega a tremulous smile. “I do,” she whispered.

“Come on then, dear,” Vega said, leading Allison further into the salon and helping her sit down. “So nice to see you in here. Me and Ed have been wondering if we would see you, even though it is past your time. But a true Beacon Hills resident goes through the Initiation.”

Allison looked at her reflection in the mirror, at Vega smiling at her, at Lydia sitting primly in the waiting area watching with interest. She blinked as she was suddenly wrapped in a cape and felt Vega combing through her hair.

“We’ve been here for so long,” Vega said. “Seen people come and go, but true residents come back. I remember back when the town was first founded … “

Vega continued to talk about the history of the town, from its founding all the way through the present. Allison didn’t even think to question how Vega could have been here since the town had been founded - it was Beacon Hills after all. Allison took the history in, but Vega’s voice was so calm, so soothing, that she kind of drifted until … 

“Alright, sweetheart, you’re all done!” Vega said, whisking the cape away. “Now, two rules. You have to come pose for a picture for the book before you leave and you must leave the house at least one time in the next 24 hours.”

Allison blinked a couple of times, clearing the cobwebs, and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. “Holy shit,” she whispered.

Vega laughed and helped Allison stand. “That’s the standard reaction,” she said.

Allison stared intently at her reflection; the haircut was her worst nightmare, the haircut she’d dreaded she’d get as a child, but thankfully never did. “A mushroom,” she whispered.

“Mmmhmm,” Vega said as she positioned Allison in front of a light pink backdrop and somehow magicked up a camera to take her picture. “This is your #9. Now, smile!” 

The camera flashed before Allison even had a chance to react. Then Lydia was at her side, handing her the sweatshirt she hadn’t even remembered taking off. 

“Come on,” Lydia said, pressing a kiss to Allison’s cheek. “No more Truth or Dare, okay?”

“Okay,” Allison murmured.

“Welcome to Beacon HIlls, Ms. Argent,” Vega said with a fond smile. “The town is glad to have you as a resident. Treat the town right and she’ll do the same to you.”

“Yes, Vega,” Allison replied, letting Lydia lead her outside back to the car. Once inside the car, she tugged her hood up, wincing as she felt the cotton rubbing against her bared nape.

“We’ll do breakfast in a couple of hours,” Lydia murmured as she drove. “The diner on the edge of town - it should be quiet.”

Allison just hummed her agreement. Part of her felt so embarrassed, but the other part of her was almost serene. She really felt like a true member of Beacon Hills, like a little part of it had lodged itself in her soul.

She was on autopilot as she let Lydia lead her back into Lydia’s house and back up to the bedroom. Lydia tugged her straight through the bedroom and right into the en suite bathroom, sitting Allison down on the toilet as she ran a hot bath.

“What’re you doing?” Allison asked softly.

“Going to show you how much what you just did means to me,” Lydia said. As the tub filled, Lydia stripped down and tossed her clothes in the corner of the bathroom. After she turned the water off, she turned her attention back to Allison. 

Allison stood, almost meek, and let Lydia divest her of her clothes and pull her to the bathtub. She hummed softly as she sank into the warm water, shifting forward a bit to let Lydia slid in behind her. The first tentative touch on her nape made her flinch a bit, but after a minute she relaxed and let Lydia run wet fingers through her hair. “Oh,” she whispered softly, gasping when she felt Lydia’s lips on the back of her head.

“Maybe,” Lydia said, her lips still resting against the back of Allison’s head, “after 24 hours, you’ll have some of this left, a little present for me, hmmm?” As she spoke, her hands wrapped around Allison, fingers from one hand tweaking one of Allison’s nipples playfully as the other hand slipped under the water and ventured lower.

Allison gasped again, Lydia’s lips and fingers working quickly to make her lose control. Lydia knew exactly what buttons to push, what words to say, to push Allison over the edge. Sated, she turned slightly and shifted down so her head rested on Lydia’s chest. She wrapped her arms around Lydia and just laid there for a while, enjoying the feel of Lydia’s fingers in her hair.

“I hope so too,” Allison finally said.

“Hmm?” Lydia hummed.

“I hope some of it stays, too,” Allison murmured. “Something hidden that’s a little forbidden. It felt really nice when you kissed it … ” 

“Even if it doesn’t,” Lydia said. “We can go to San Francisco and find a place to do it for you.”

“Hey,” Allison mumbled. “After breakfast … let’s come back here and hide out under the covers until this goes away, huh?”

“Watch cheesy rom-coms and eat popcorn?” Lydia said. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

“How does it feel to be dating a true Beacon Hills resident?” Allison asked sleepily.

“Just perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came from a sign that is outside a salon near me (picture below) and it got me thinking. What if, at the age of sixteen, a true resident of Beacon Hills has to go to this salon (which is never closed) and get this 'Free Haircut #9', which is different for everyone. It's basically your worst nightmare haircut and you have to live with it for 24 hours and afterwards, it changes into a new, more hip and acceptable haircut. It's just accepted that when you're sixteen, you go to Vega's to be a true Beacon Hills resident.
> 
>  


End file.
